GASTRO-CONSULTANT, BUYER AND PRESENTER, WRITER ON THE FINE, CRAFTER OF THE AVIATION

16 Mar 2012

Whisky Coast

COLCHESTER’S Mersea Island spans five miles by two of tidal marsh. There’s a fledgling vineyard, pub, seven B&B bedrooms and a bitumen-spread shack called, no-nonsense, the Company Shed. It’s beloved by both locals, and restaurant critics jaded by Michelin’s frippery. Under fluorescent strips, tanks of crustaceans rowdily gurgle, tended by seventh generation snowy-bearded oyster-man, Richard Haward. His family have been excavating craggy bivalves from local silt and salt since 1792. Haward’s cause today is the rebuilding of stocks of delicate tasting, and delicate of life, native oysters. I venture on a sharp, low sunlit morning to taste Talisker Scotch distilled beside the shore of Scotland’s Isle of Skye beside this shore, with a menu by guest chef, Valentine Warner.